Walking on Water

 

 

I planted a bunch of different seeds in my garden.

Potatoes.

Onions.

Swish chard.

Beets.

Lettuce.

Sunflowers.

Carrots.

Lavender.

Basil.

Zinnias.

Squash.

Zucchini  

Beans.

Dill.

Fennel.

And random packs of flowers, and old seeds I thought might be fun if they grew.

When I plant seeds, I like to plant a variety of seeds, sometimes a bunch of old seeds all at once.

That way, I know, something… will grow.

I do think the bean seeds are very old.

My mom could grow beans really well, rows, and rows, of long vines, beautiful beans.

Always a beautiful bean garden.

So far, I would say Sunflowers have been my most abundant harvest.

This is a little rabbit my sister asked me to take care of, because it's runt, and has a hurty eye. So we'll see if it's gets feeling any better. 

Anyhow.

 

The weather has been showing off. We’ve had some real beautiful sunny, spring days. Everything has greened up so much. Green alfalfa. Green grace. It’s delightful. Seeing glowing leaves against the sun.

Smelling lilacs.

Watching the birds, hop, hop hopping on the grass.

It rained the day after I put seeds in my garden. And I felt very blessed to have it rain and water the ground.

The grass, shrubs, and everything appreciates it.

And I do to.

We have four puppies left.

Thor, Wendy, Shiloh, and Van goh.

Every single one of the nine puppies learned at least one command. And are supper smart, and affectionate.

They are so cute, and want to please.

I keep telling myself not to pick another favorite, but I have again.

Thor.

He is so soft, like a big black teddy bear. And just loves to be hugged.

Though. We’ve had these dogs so long, Bess and I are pretty good at telling the black dogs apart from one another.

Highlights from last week.

After our Chior, Blue notes practice, we went to the tractor supply to get some dog food. Bess had her violin in the car, and wanted to bring it in mostly because the window on the back of our car keeps falling down.

So she took her violin, and case inside, we put it on a cart, and started wheeling it past the cahiers.

As we approached the desk, Bess announced in a loud voice, This thing in the cart is a violin.

Clerk smiles, and says, just so it’s not a gun or something.

Bess smiles, and the girl seems super interested in learning the violin.

So Bess asks, would you like to try it?

The girl hesitated, and then her Boss told her she could. So she smiled, and nodded.

Bess got out her violin, and starting playing a fun fiddle tune on it. And several men in the isle stopped, and listened.

The girl seemed to enjoy her music lesson. Bessie put it up to her chin, and helped her strum the strings with the bow. She seemed very pleased.  She had a tattoo on her arm in Sanskrit which means breathe.

Which is something I try to remember to do. Bess is always reminding me to breathe as well.

Breathe.

And so I remember, as best as I can, to breathe, as life moves in and out.

So does the breath.

And we follow it. In and out, in and out.

It is the first thing we do when we enter this world, and the last thing we do, before we exit.

Breathe.

So, after Bess taught the woman, two other men watching, came close, and looked very interested. Bess and I started talking to them, and there was a ranch-cowboy guy, and he looked very curious, so Bess plopped the violin into his arms, and helped him strum it.

He looked a little afraid, but really excited. Kind of in awe, that maybe he could play.

There was a guy from Peru who wanted my sister’s picture holding the violin.

Then she offered to let him try it.  He also tried it.

Then another one of the Boss ladies working there got a turn.

It was funny because it was a strange thing, violin music in this store. It felt so real, and raw, and a little too real. It wasn’t in a package, or anything shiny. But it was unusual, and interesting.

Almost like the music was a bit out of place, a violin, some country music, in a feed store seemed like the would go together, but it felt very good, and very strange.

Like the store was a very formal place. And the music felt a little too real, so it was delicious, as it was a little strange, as it felt like going to a formal event, and you brought wildflowers to a garden party full of very serious vegetables, or fake flowers.

                It was quite memorable.

                The funny thing was, that night we had been invited to go to a town music sharing event. But instead, we had a music sharing event at a tractor supply.

                Another event of note was My sister and I taught some ten-year olds in Church last week, about service, and serving other people as if we were in the service of God.

                It was cute because all the kids seemed like they were old souls, and very attentive. We let each one talk, and tell everyone about themselves, and I thought, for the most bit, they were very self aware. One kid thought himself being related to Einstein, because he said he knew lots of stuff. And seemed to feel akin to him.

                It was cute because some of the girls came dressed in a fancy dress, wearing tiaras, I guess they had a daddy daughter date the night before, and came all dressed up. At least that’s what Bess and I figured. 

 

Picture of the koto, the other day, a rainbow appeared on the wall behind it. I don't really know how it was possible. But the shadow on the wall it formed was very much a rainbow. At least to me. 

Also, things coming up for my sister and I that have me a little apprehensive is, we will be practicing music a lot next week. Then on Wednesday, my koto teacher her son, and husband are coming down from California, and we are going to make music together at the Topaz museum. Because on Zoom meetings, there is a lag time, so we actually haven’t ever played together--much. So this will be an act of Faith on both our parts.

We are also going to sing some songs, with koto. Amazing grace, sound of silence, and some other music. Also we are going to invite some of our choir members to join in.

There’s going to be a pilgrimage to all the topaz sites, so it’s bringing family of the people who were at Topaz.

There’s been some big drama around a memorial rock that got dug up, at Topaz. And a Mr. Wakasa who the memorial was made for.   It’s been pretty hard on my Journalism teacher. It sounds like there is going to be some strong energies there, that will require some amazing grace, and open hearts.

I know that really, the music I make is quite simple.

As my are my words.

I know that everything I do means very little if not done from a place of love, of unity. And the music we give away---the real stuff, is the open hearted knowing, the grid of spirit, and of unity, and truth, that exists beyond form.

And that map is far more important than the form, though it can be a beautiful vehicle, a window, and mirror to the divine. If we are in the space of allowing, and loving. 

It's something I am learning, and remembering. To find the unconditional place, in form, when there is timing, and right notes, and a form, that requires your fingers to be in the right place. And your mind to focus, and your heart to feel the music.

To find that space between form, and spirit where there is flow.  So, as I dance in form, it is my prayer to give it away in worship, without owning whatever comes out. And to be grateful for this gift to share, though I may tremble. If any good flows through me, it’s really because spirit, because grace, because there is something extra blessing my life.

It is my hope that this little music event we will all see each other a little better, and have open hearts, and open minds, and forgiveness will be what is felt, and heard as we remember ourselves as each other. As we remember, and release those things in the past that no longer serve the highest good.

I know I'm going to need a lot of courage, and presence, to feel myself, when there's so many people, and there's many mirrors, and conditions.

So remembering that love, the unconditional kind is where where grace stands, and my soul stands in that place, unmoving and fixed.

And the form, it too, is learning to follow the heart.

The pulse of God.

It feels strange, all this. And my sister and I being in charge of also the blue notes concert. The choir director asked Bess to make a scroll to put the narration on. But we bought one on amazon instead.

 That’s going to happen on Saturday. Where Shirley and her son are going to play koto with me.

Bess and I are also going to sing a duet, Pie Jesu. And that is also another courage bit, I pray for. Because my voice doesn’t feel very strong. I feel like David, with three rocks. 

But with faith. Three rocks were more than enough. 

And so that is what I will carry. God's stones.  And I will step out of the boat.

And walk on waves. And unfold my heart as best I can, towards the master who called me out in the first place.

A lot of women had health issues, so our choir is small. But I have felt heart there, and I have felt this third thing as we have practiced, and made music. The choir director has really had fun working with us, and I feel she feels the essence that we were trying to convey with what music we chose.

Though some of the original music we chose had to be switched out, because it was too hard for some of the members. A lot of the music we had to choose from past concerts.

Bess chose a lot of the music, and I wrote the narration. Well, spirit did. And I feel like it's everyone's show now. Because so many people are participating, and have had input. Bess and I were just facilitators for spirit to work through. For some greater collective song that was wanting to be birthed.

So it’s God’s concert now. Both of them are. Because without God’s grace, they wouldn’t be happening.

 We are going to have to decorate the stage, and get so many things ready. And I feel so many things, because I know really this is all just a gift, to dance, and sing in form. As we all just be together for a moment, and sing. And give the gift of our seeing away to each other.

The gift of flowing the gifts we have, as best we can. Loving while we are here. Shining our lights out, and giving permission for others to shine too. And it is beautiful. And when I pause, and am present, and allow myself. It is beautiful.

We entitled the concert The voice.

The voice.

The voice beyond the voice.

That which exists in the stillness.

The voice.

I know that the form in which we dance will manifest how it will. And something beautiful happens when you allow life. When you allow the voice.

This is all been so interesting. So much I have been learning.

My sister and I. It’s interesting. Because she has always been good at keeping rhythms, and being aware of time, and these things.

So I have been learning as best I can, to keep a steady beat. She’s been patient with me, and a good coach.

Steady.

To keep timing.

And I know that all this is a gift.

To breathe.

In. And out.

A dance in form. Where we get to be with each other.

To make music together.

To sing, or to play.

Whatever happens, I hope we all hear that sound, beyond sound.

The rhythm beyond, that orchestrates our lives.

To distil presence into the now, and flow love into what we do.

To follow our heart’s rhythm, to keep us in sync with the divine.

Moving us to rhythms unseen.

Sounds invisible.

Notes.

Us.

Being played by God. Directed by this force that is beyond time, and through time, and in all things, and in all of us.

And I like to think that, though however I show up, however my form manifests.

God’s timing is perfect. And so I trust that in God, in Grace.

My timing too, is perfected, and perfect, and beautiful.

 I have seen grace work in my life, making the imperfect, perfect, smoothing hearts, and souls, and covering us all in blessing, and love. Where I know it’s a higher power working, because I have seen the contrast. And know that grace makes all things new, and beautiful, and with Grace, all things are possible.

Small things are given might---ones that don't have much in terms of wordily things. Uneducated, speak in tongues. 

So you know, where their power comes from.

And who to give the credit to.

Under God’s umbrella, seen in his light, goodness, mercy, truth, favor exist.

And so, if anything good comes, I know, where it has come from. And I know to whom praise, and where devotion belongs.  

A heartbeat we all are connected to.

A love we are always apart of.

A space that always exists inside us.

To follow that conductor.

And rejoice. And sing praises with our hearts, always.

Without stopping or starting.

My spirit sings.

And knows there is a voice, a glory, and knowing, a song that is being played, here. Now.

A weaving, a word, a voice, a sound.

And we are windows for that love, that heartbeat, that voice, that knowing.

And how beautiful it is.

And how much my heart yearns to keep that steady rhythm.

Being in tune with that divine sound, steady and sure.

And it shines out.

A lighthouse.

And keeps us.

A beacon.  

For us to follow.

Till we reach the shore.

And fully see the blessing, and goodness, that has kept our boats on course.

God’s spirit filling our sails, as we all, in whatever way we are asked, to walk, on water.

To walk in faith towards the master.